18. Yuri
EIGHTEEN
Yuri
I’m in the middle of watching a dirt bike race on the internet when my phone buzzes. I consider ignoring it, but it’s from Kotya so I sigh, pause the vid, and pick up.
“Come downstairs. There’s a problem,” Kotya says in terse Russian.
“Problem? What problem?” I ask, confused as to how he can have a problem while on a date with Sierra.
Actually, why is he back so early? I was sure his double date would run long since he’d wanted to discuss a few things with Giulio Pavone.
I get off the bed, shut the laptop screen, and scowl. “A few things” being how best to offload the women we’ll be receiving from Andronov. Maybe he managed to piss off Pavone and we’re gearing up for a full scale mafia war now.
Nikolai is there already when I get to the front entrance. Kotya is yelling at the guards, something about letting her get away .
“What’s going on?” I ask Nikolai, my hackles raised.
His expression is grim. “Um, the long version or the short version?” he asks. “Because it’s still a doozy no matter how I tell you.” He glances at Kotya.
Kotya turns to me, and I recoil from the fury in his expression.
“Her phone. We have a tracker in it, right?” he demands.
There’s only one “her” it could be. I nod. “Uh, yeah. I can pull up the app… Why? Where is she? Did Pavone take her?”
“Ah… No,” Nikolai says. “She found out he’s working with Pavone, freaked out, and took the car and bailed. She probably went to her brother’s, but we don’t know yet.”
I can tell he’s dying to say, “I told you so,” but he refrains.
“Took the car?” I repeat, bewildered. “How did she take the car?”
Kotya sneers and points to the driver. “This fucking braindead asswipe let her take the keys from his hand! And didn’t think to stop her from driving off!”
I’m not really sure how he would’ve kept her from driving off if she had the keys, but I don’t say that aloud.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen Kotya this angry, and when he turns his glare on Nikolai, Nikolai swallows hard. “You’d better pull up the app and see where she is,” he tells me in a low voice. “Fast.” Normally, he’d have something snarky to say, but he keeps that to himself, too.
I open the app on my phone, and I see the GPS on Sierra’s phone moving into the city. “If she didn’t get rid of the phone, she’s heading toward the university,” I say, clutching the phone tightly. “Might be hard to get her back if she’s with other students, but the campus itself should be closed.”
“Most of it,” Nikolai says. “Not the dorms. She didn’t live there, though, did she? She had an apartment. She couldn’t have gone there. She doesn’t have a key, or an ID, or anything. Plus, it would be fucking stupid, and our—” He catches the murderous look on Kotya’s face and amends, “and Sierra wouldn’t do something so obvious.”
“Unless you pushed her,” I mutter. “Whatever. Let’s get going. I’ll take my bike. You two can follow in your cars.”
“Maybe Kotya should stay here,” Nikolai says cautiously. “The two of us can handle it, and Kotya has plenty to deal with now.”
“I’m going,” Kotya says, growling. “I will not allow her to leave. She and that baby are mine .”
Ours , I think darkly, but I’m not going to argue with Kotya right now.
Nikolai doesn’t bother to respond to that, either. “I’ll head to the campus,” he says instead. “I have no idea how I’ll find her, but… Maybe someone’s seen her.”
She’d been wearing a dress that had shown off the brand—our brand—and that’s definitely a mark people would remember. Of course, she could’ve found something to cover it up with by now, but it’s a start for Nikolai to use.
The problem with Sierra is that she’s smart, and if she’s running, she’s not going to make it easy to find her.
Nikolai pulls his keys out of his pocket and heads toward the garage at a brisk pace.
I put on all my safety gear and get on the motorcycle, setting the phone into the phone holder so I can keep the app open.
I make my way toward the campus. My mind flits to a memory of Sierra clinging to me as I drove her to campus. She’d complained about needing to pack more things than what would fit on the bike, but we’d made it work, and she’d laughed when we arrived.
I’d kissed her, and she’d smiled back, and I’m fucking certain she wouldn’t have ditched me without reason.
Maybe she’s only ditching Kotya.
The GPS signal stops on campus for a few minutes, but before I get to the university, it keeps moving. I redirect my path, skipping the campus entirely, and find myself in a decent neighborhood a few blocks away.
These are nice apartments.
The dot on my app disappears.
Fuck.
I find a parking spot for my bike and walk to the building closest to where the dot disappeared.
I have no way of knowing which unit she’s in, if she’s in this building at all.
I call Kotya and Nikolai. They both pick up almost instantly.
“Hey, I followed the tracker to an apartment complex.” I give them the address and I look up the building. “There’s probably a few hundred units though.”
Nikolai doesn’t answer right away. “She’s, um… That’s her apartment building.” He sounds baffled. “I don’t know which unit, but would she really have made it so fucking easy to find her?”
“Maybe she hopes we’ll chase her,” I suggest, although that doesn’t feel right to me. This entire situation is off, but I can’t place why. Sierra running is strange, but Sierra keeping her phone is stranger. She has to know we’ll come for her.
“Find her,” Kotya barks at me. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”
Easier said than done. I end the call and enter the building.
There’s a concierge on staff, because of course Sierra’s father would have paid for a building with a concierge.
“Hi,” I say, approaching him. “Sorry, can you help me? I’m here to see Sierra Winters. Could you call her and let her know I’m here?”
The concierge gives me a strange look. “Funny. I don’t see her in months and now she’s got a whole party going?”
I keep smiling, despite how tense I am. “Yeah? Guess she’s popular. Should I be worried though? Like, is the other guy bigger than me?”
He must have realized he said too much. “Uh… I didn’t say she was with another man.” He presses a few buttons on the phone, and I wish I could see what unit he called from this angle.
The concierge waits, but there’s no response. “Maybe she left again,” he suggests with a shrug.
I highly doubt that.
“Okay, look,” I say congenially. “I don’t care if she’s with another guy. I do need to see her though. So tell me her unit number and I’ll confirm for myself what’s going on.”
The guy shakes his head. “No. That’s against company policy. And if you insist?—”
I reach over the front desk and wrap my hand around his throat. Still smiling, I say, “I can either slip you a fifty for the information, or I beat you bloody until you tell me what I want to hear. And if you still don’t tell me, I guess I kill you and find the info on that computer in front of you.”
The guy squeals and claws at my arm, but I don’t feel much through the thick leather of my biker jacket.
I hear the front entrance slide open and heavy footsteps entering. I spare a quick glance, and sigh in relief when Kotya and Nikolai walk in.
“Hey guys,” I say, nodding at the concierge. “My friend was about to tell me where Sierra is.”
Nikolai glances at the concierge. “Oh, good. I’d hate for things to have to get violent.”
If things weren’t so dire, I’d want them to get violent so I can have an outlet for all of the frustration, anger… and fear . Who had she been with?
Kotya closes in and looms over the concierge. “Where is she?” he growls, and the concierge whimpers in response.
“510!” the concierge shouts. “Please! Let me go!”
“Good,” Kotya says, nodding in approval. He keeps his gaze on the concierge. “You will not call authorities. If you do, I will find you and gut you myself. Understand?”
“Yes! Yes! I’m sorry!” the guy yells.
It’s annoying that Kotya got all that out of the concierge with a few words. I think I’m plenty intimidating too, but I guess I’ll never exude danger the way Kotya does.
I take the man’s keycard, let go of him, and jog to the elevator. Then I shake my head. “Too slow. I’m taking the stairs.”
“Yep, on it,” Nikolai says, already following me to the stairs. He’s a little slower than I am, a little less in shape, but he follows me up to the fifth floor.
I hear a scream as I open the stairwell door.
“Sierra,” I hiss, running the rest of the way to the unit.
Nikolai is hot on my heels, with Kotya coming up at the rear. The three of us get to the door, and I kick it open.
My blood is already pumping hard in my veins, but it runs hotter as I see Sierra on the floor, curled up in the fetal position.
Her ex-boyfriend is standing over her, kicking her as she sobs and tries to protect her stomach.
My vision goes red.
I launch myself at the dickbag and slam him into the kitchen counter. He cries out, but I don’t give him time to catch his breath. I punch him in the face, then I slam his head into the marble counter for good measure.
He moans and doesn’t move.
I hear movement behind me, and Nikolai’s voice is urgent but distant as he speaks to her. I turn around to see him pulling her into his arms, his expression alarmed and his face pale.
Kotya approaches me and pulls the ex upright. “Who is this?” he asks in Russian.
Sierra lets out a pained laugh. “I understood that.”
Nikolai hushes her. “I’m calling an ambulance,” he announces, already fumbling with his phone.
“No,” Kotya says. “Take her to the hospital in your car.” He slaps the ex’s face. “Yura and I will deal with this man.”
My body thrums with excitement. “That’s her ex-boyfriend. The man who cheated on her.”
Kotya gives me a dark smile. “Oh, this is him? Then we really need to show him some Russian hospitality.”
The ex groans and shakes his head. “Leave… leave me alone… fuckers…”
Nikolai scoops Sierra up into his arms, staggering a little under her weight but not saying anything about it.
She makes a pained sound, though, and tells him, “I can walk. I’m fine.”
“But the baby…” Nikolai starts, but he sets her down.
Her expression is bleak. “We should get to the hospital,” she says.
Nikolai helps her out of the apartment, an arm wrapped around her waist. “I’ll call as soon as we know something,” he calls over his shoulder before they disappear down the hallway.
I press my shoulder against Kotya’s. “We shouldn’t make a mess here, probably.”
“Agreed,” Kotya murmurs. “I want to get very, very messy with him.”
The ex is still dazed. “Speak… speak English… This is America.”
I laugh. He wouldn’t want to understand us if he knew what we were saying.
“I’ll take him back to the mansion in my car,” Kotya says. “You get rid of the evidence here. The concierge…”
“I’ll make it very clear what will happen if he snitches,” I promise. I sneer at the ex. In English, I say, “Aren’t you lucky. You get to live.”
For now.